Flying The Coop

Tommaso

“Yes, Mr. Conti,” the woman on the phone said in a pleasant, accented voice. “I understand you want to leave quite quickly. I am simply going to transfer you to—”

“No, no!” Hold music filled my ear again. “Fuck.”

I ran a hand through my curls and marched back and forth through the little living room. I’d been transferred three times already because, apparently, the flight I knew about was full, and none of the identically pleasant-voiced women I’d spoken to so far had responded to my not-so-subtle offers of bribery.

No, they wanted to tell me about the red eye to New York with no connection, or the flight leaving in twenty minutes for Atlantic City where Paige and I would have to sit on opposite sides of the plane.

I couldn’t do that again. The cab ride had been awful. She cried most of the way and never looked at me after that first moment. I didn’t expect her to be happy or comfortable after what she went through, but she was so upset I had no idea what to say.

“Hi, I’ve bee